Miss Matilda started.
“I mean leaving off—using that absurdly childish appellation. I desire you always to address me as papa.”
“All right, daddy,” said the girl, laughing—“as soon as I can teach myself.”
Sir Hampton snatched himself back into his place, and began to open letters; while Finetta went and kissed her aunt.
“Well, aunty, how’s Pip this morning?”
“Pepine is very unwell, my dear,” said Miss Matilda, coldly.
“You stuff him too much, aunty, and don’t give him exercise enough.”
“My dear you should not deliver opinions upon what you do not understand. Your papa’s cup.”
“Don’t understand, aunty!” said the girl, passing the cup; “why, I know all about dogs and horses. You give Pip over to me for a week; I’ll soon put the little wretch right.”
Lady Rea saw the horror upon her sister-in-law’s countenance, and catching her daughter’s eye, shook her head at her, as she went on dispensing the tea.